


Long May He Reign

by RichmanBachard



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Body Worship, Excessive Fluids, F/M, Mindbreak, Size Difference, Size Kink, Stomach Bulge, Tentacles, dubcon, monster fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RichmanBachard/pseuds/RichmanBachard
Summary: Urizen needs a scarce few things. A plaything happens to be one of them. Commission for coraltorches.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Urizen
Kudos: 12





	Long May He Reign

In such a short amount of time, the fabled Qliphoth reigned supreme, its roots having spread themselves so deeply in and around the very structures and foundation of Redgrave City. The metropolis was encased in a shell of chaos and despair. Demons ran amok, terrorizing any and all survivors until there was nothing left. Nothing except debris and ash, with blood and guts strewn about and subsequently absorbed. With each ounce of human blood, the crimson elixir sustained Him, reinvigorated His sense of self and growing lust for power. The military did what it good barring the most extreme of measures, but this was no ordinary threat. This was no act of God - not any deity they knew - nor was it a conventional act of terror. No. It was something simultaneously in-between and paradoxically so far and away from anything a normal human could possibly comprehend. It was terrifying beyond measure.

Only one God would walk the earth on that day, adorned with a crown made from the remains of the wrath he so coldly wrought. And woe to the naysayer, His reign would be everlasting.

The city belonged to Urizen. And before long, the whole world would fall victim to His desire just as harshly.

Power. Complete and total consumption of power. A feeling so intoxicating He grew drunk off of its hearty supply. All it would take was further carnage, more blood, until the fruit was in His possession. Then and only then, would true power belong to Him. Only then would He be fit to wear the crown.

There would be those who would try their damnedest to stop Him. Many already had. And they all fell, one after one falling prey to His might and the underlings at His beck and call. Urizen was growing to become a king - the final king, the last one not just the demon world would need, but the human world as well. The one both worlds deserved. He knew full-well, even hisself would want to stop Him—and the weak pile of crumbling flesh could certainly try.

Urizen had more important matters to attend to. Including, most of all, His own needs.

It did grow so boring some days. He could hardly help it.

Humans served many a purpose but most of all was nourishment, naturally. Little sacks of potential which harbored the much needed juice in order to get the ball rolling. And yet.. there were some who tantalized Him further; in a deeper, more depraved sort of way. Only some survived, in the end. Those who did, and escaped, might have considered themselves lucky were it not for the unending, fleshy, almost non-Euclidian labyrinth that was the insides of the tree itself. Never to be seen from again. A shame.

But soon only one remained: a buxom woman so inclined to cater to His every whim already, that He took a liking to her. Pitiful as it may have been. She seemed willing enough to endure all the abuse that was bestowed. At first she was naturally reluctant, but the key to survival was maintaining a sense of pragmatism. For her however, it was more than a mere, pragmatic show of force in order to get what she wanted.

It felt as though Anthousa had something to prove. He could sense it.

Why? For what purpose other than to fast-track her own foolish end? Urizen considered Himself the slightest bit perplexed at her bullheadedness. He could see it in her eyes every time her tongue had run along the length of his daunting, demonic manhood. She bathed Him with her tongue regularly, His seed the only nourishment her body would ever need from then on. While it was copious and thick, she only seemed all the more eager to bathe in it—to rub the contents into her skin, into her ample bosom. Whatever was not rubbed into her or betwixt her legs, she consumed. Popping one cum-laden finger into her mouth after the other, making a proper show of it.

It was so theatrical He could almost laugh. 

For someone so small in comparison to His might, He found himself enamored with her. Not necessarily with her beauty but rather what she was willing to do with it. How far she fell, how little she cared for her own sense of worth or dignity. A sort-of twisted grin spread across His features at the thought of twisting her further. A toy for Him to endlessly play with, then cast aside when no further use or need was required. Whenever He saw fit. Par the course.

The time would come, eventually. It always did. Urizen had a knack for wearing out the toys with which He toyed with. Desires so delectable and vast, it made for a kindly distraction whenever the day was low with supply or excitement. Dolls at his demand.

Often, He would remain seated upon his throne of want, bored. Waiting for the time, waiting for what He truly wanted.

Stuffing an eager soul with His carnal appetites would soothe the pain of time and how slow it progressed.

Down in that dark, pulsating chamber of rest for which Urizen slumbered and waited, His throne continued to positively throb with the elixir of life. The organic tubing ran along the walls down into His being, past all the jagged rock and the glistening spark of crystals nearby.

Down in the depths, the human could muster nothing but a whimper amidst absolute submission as she was held up, gripped solely via a single hand of His. Urizen’s talons drew along her lithe form as the sharp, piercing gaze of His glowing green stare drinking in the sight of her voluptuous figure.

Her chest tightened, forcing her to choke the words out as the heat spread throughout her body. “P-Please..”

“Tell me,” He said, the sheer boom of His voice rattling her very bones. “Tell me, whore.. why is it you persist..?” She could hardly muster the gasp that followed. “Have you truly fallen so far, that you have so easily accepted that which you were made for?” He hummed, almost in a teasing manner. The sound may have made her skin crawl, but it achieved something very different from within. “Your true state of being..”

His grip lessened itself upon her form, some semblance of air able to fill her thirsty lungs. Some bit of clothing remained, pieces scattered which she hastily threw together in order to look halfway decent when her mind was not so concerned with his needs. To her dismay - and further, her rancid delight - a lone talon upon his free hand drug itself across her face, tracing the lines of her brow, her nose. Her jawline then down her neck. Tears would have welled in her eyes in that instance were it not for the rigorous, thorough usage with which she endured week after week. 

“Speak.”

“I..” A part of her wanted to deny it, to accept death in lieu of the life she once lived. But such a notion was all for naught, far weaker in contrast to the much louder voice which verbalized what she truly wanted. “I hunger..” The whimper that spilled from her form was a small one, choked out as his grip tightened ever so slightly. 

Urizen remained unfazed. “Again.”

She shut her eyes tightly, her darkly pink lips parting to utter her indentured compliance. “I hunger, my king, I.. I want nothing but what you give. I hunger, please, I hunger, I hunger-“

He shushed her with his talon, drawing up to press against her puckered lips. She was burning hot, the heat coursing through her deliciously blood-filled veins. He nicked the smallest scar upon her chiseled cheek, one next to many, and watched as the blood faintly spilled from the light wound. She groaned. And His talon continued to wander further, down her form and across her top. Again, to her mixed response of emotions and desires, the sharp edge of His forefinger effortlessly sliced through the article of clothing as He drug it down, her scattered cloth falling from her body. Such a motion allowed her breasts to spill out, sagging and swaying wonderfully to His vicious delight. He took in the sight of her body, her luscious form available only to Him, the Demon King's personal fucktoy. Her rightful occupation until she was needed no longer.

Somehow, amid her daze, what hand had held her was gone and instead replaced with the numerous support of available tentacles. Freeing both of His hands in the process, He set them down on either side as the tentacles enrapturing Anthousa brought her closer to her king. 

To be pitted so close to what surely would be her end, it terrified her. And yet, in feeling so, it spread the depraved sense of arousal which grew in her core all around. Her aching sex dripped with need, her mouth beginning to salivate. And as the small speck of blood spilled from the wound upon her cheek, His tongue came about and doused her form with its grace. He drug it up from her arousal, across her navel and above her breasts, to come over the wounded side of her face. Anthousa squealed earnestly, another moment of weakness amidst her otherwise stonefaced display of rebellion. Urizen caught the blood, her blood, humming softly at the taste of it. Pulling her away, even the slightest flavor was enough to satiate His own hunger for a time - yet another sort of craving remained. Anthousa felt the tip of His own, engorged arousal brush against her. Even as the tentacles twisted and turned and spun themselves upon her, encircling her legs and breasts and arms, pulling her part for better access, she did her best to maintain a look of decency. A look of defiance. 

“I tire of your insolence, you mewling quim.. and yet you fancy me.” He paused, drawing out his last few words with a venomous slip. “You know your place.” Another talon graced her cheek in a loving stroke as a lone set of tentacles surrounded her. One rubbed the slick remains of His saliva, her growing sweat, and seemingly unending arousal across her pussy. She chewed at her bottom lip, her mind wandering to a place fit for consolation as she was utterly defiled. Another was soon behind, trailing her behind as it rubbed across the sensitive bud. Her defenses were scarce as it was, but any that may have remained were soon destined to be broken. As it was meant to be.

Urizen did not sneer. Rarely did a truly noticeable expression ever grace His chiseled, demonic features, but in the final few moments before the complete reckoning she was about to endure, Anthousa would have sworn she could make out the faintest twinkle in His eye - one of pure, unadulterated lust. 

Just before she could mutter another word, a tentacle softly encircled her throat to nearly wrap around it—as one more eagerly drew itself to her lips. She could taste it, that one came from where her cunt had been. And now it desired the silk of her mouth, and surely her throat. She could recall the times He simply watched as the tentacles laid waste to her form, unending in their assault as she would be filled to the brim. He watched, seemingly with amusement but this time was far, far different. She wanted to pray, to find some solace in the knowing that something better might come.

Urizen wanted nothing more than to provide that better existence. In His own way. “Filthy, insolent slut. So eager for my touch. Weak. Exactly like the rest of them.” He groaned, allowing His arousal to fully take hold. “Allow me.. to curb the hunger you suffer from.”

Anthousa screamed as His cock pierced her sopping wet core, slowly, filling her so thoroughly that her mind was lit aflame with the knowledge that nothing would ever sate her just as well again. Urizen hissed at the tight confines of her cunt, stretching her well beyond her conceivable limits as it plunged deeply into her, the bulge she was barely able to see an alluring sight.

Before any further motion could be made, the tentacles upon her mouth and ass made their move too - worming their way inside without a care. Her insides were stuffed full with the demonic appendages, thrusting into her with reckless abandon. 

At first the motions were tender, tentative - opening her up in order to mold her exactly the way He desired it. She could feel the tentacles plunging deep, wiggling their way inside as her eyes crossed, barely able to make a sound - not just from being stuffed itself, but from the weakness in her form as her body gave out. She was spread open, fucked into, again and again as her sex made contact with as much of His cock as it could muster. The tightness around her throat worked wonders to shroud her vision with impending doom, mixing from all the pain and pleasure which wracked her body. Anthousa’s world went white as a terrible, voracious orgasm hung over her, electrified her frame to a shattering degree that she was reduced to a quivering mass of flesh. Her cunt squirting forth the result of that added pleasure. Urizen cooed as His doll was stuffed, throwing her upon Himself as the pleasure He received from the tentacles tickled at the impending orgasm which built in His core, added to it.

It felt as though her orgasm had not ceased, her mind slowly withering as the assault continued. Any shred of resistance or doubt was murdered by the power of His arousal. 

Such a pristine, fresh form to lay waste to. It was almost saccharine sweet how she so easily gave in, allowing herself to be rearranged fully into what He wanted her to be. No act, no subterfuge - only sheer, undivided loyalty to His every whim.

Anthousa would have laughed breathlessly were it not for the constriction upon her. She recalled a time - a time before her King which seemed pleasant but wholly unfulfilling. It was slowly beginning to dawn on her how empty life seemingly was, in the absence of His presence. Was this what true devotion felt like? Something so filling, both literally as well as figuratively. It made her head spin, when her head could hardly fathom what might happen next. 

What happened next grew to become her favorite part. Urizen twitched in such a way that registered with what little she had left. She recognized the feel. He was close, so very close. She could hardly wait.

And so, as orgasm after orgasm destroyed her, so too did the increase of His motions. She was thrust upon Him so quickly that she almost fainted. She held on, with what little strength was left, as her king reached a peak of His own. The only one that mattered.

Urizen sowed copious amounts of seed deeply within His doll, her stomach bulging from the amount of it. Anthousa’s eyes rolled back as the overflow squelched from where there sexes hastily met. 

In that moment, He truly had killed her. Just not in the way she had expected and feared. He killed what little shred of decency and revolt might have remained within her. In the wake of that, what she truly was had been cultivated properly, and now flourished. 

His seed leaked from her so thoroughly as she was brought to the ground. To be without care and filling, it was a new world to her. She coughed, her body rolling to the side so she could meet his gaze. Her mind was thick with a lust-addled haze, broken from the treatment she had received. Collecting the fragments of what remained could take years, and time was a luxury she could no longer afford. The pool of demonic seed which spilled around her brought a comforting warmth as she lazily scooped some into her eager mouth. 

It was a struggle for her to sit up, to muster the strength to face her king with impropriety. She did so weakly, to her credit, then haphazardly began to smear more of His thick seed upon her lithe form, across her supple bosom, mirroring the time from before. The time she began to truly enjoy the fruits of such labor. Urizen looked down upon her and in that moment she felt terribly small, much smaller than she had ever been. Yet in that realization, there was no grief or fear. No want or envy. She looked up at Him, noticing how his demonic erection had not flagged. A smile creased her cum-slick lips. 

“Is that all you have for me?”

The ask was laced with her own kind of venom, the last remaining ounce she had left before nothing of wit could spill from her. 

As the insolence continued, so too did His distaste of it. In seconds the tentacles from before wrapped themselves around her body and hastened her ascent. Once more a meeting with Him would be, and so she shivered in knowing what that would lead to.

When she was spun around, away from Him, she could only hope it would be just as thorough as it was the first time. Her mind remained dominated with thoughts laced only with lust, and the promise of continuing that heat. Soon it would never cease. Were she cast aside, she made peace with the idea despite feeling that He could feel differently one day. Maybe He would, maybe not.

As the leftover slickness upon His arousal rubbed against her ass and up the cleft of it, her heart could only anticipate what might follow. To be molded perfectly just for Him, to yield to His every touch and advance no matter the time or place.

She licked more of the come from her lips. Eager.

Long live the King, long may He reign.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow [@RichmanBachard](https://twitter.com/RichmanBachard) and [@RichmanSFW](https://twitter.com/RichmanSFW) to keep up with my stories, my commission info, and my insanity.


End file.
